#B!TCH (#Jerk #2)

by Kat T. Masen

Gemma and Haden have this unique bond. They like the same movies, have the same wicked sense of humor, and although they bicker over the most trivial things, they are extremely close, and Haden treats her like his own sister. So, her taking his side, doesn’t surprise me one bit.

  “It’s been one day,” I chide, ignoring the guilt creeping up on me.

  “Pres, please listen to me. You may think Sandy has only the best intentions, but don’t forget your family comes first, always.”

  Irritated, I exhale. “Can I speak to Masen? That’s why I called.”

  There’s a shuffle until the screen switches to FaceTime, and all I see is his cute little face. A familiar pang hits me, missing him so much. I look into his hazel eyes, desperately trying to erase the similarity between him and Haden.

  “Hi, buddy.” I smile over the phone as we FaceTime. “Are you being good for Aunty Gemma?”

  “Yes, Momma. Aunty Gemma let me watch the show with Sheldon. He’s funny, Momma. He likes video games like me.”

  I shake my head, disapproving, knowing full well Gemma and I have discussed this.

  “Okay, Momma has to go. I love you, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “I love you, Momma.”

  I hang up the phone and stare out the window. The city is relentless in its pace. It reshapes time’s parameters making minutes and moments, and even years, move unfathomably faster than they seem they should. I watch, for how long, I can’t answer, until I move to bed wishing to go to sleep.

  As I lay in the large bed, unable to close my eyes, I stare at my cell waiting for Haden to call me, or even text.

  It never comes.

  And somewhere, as dawn set in, I fall asleep.

  “So, as you can see, our contract is very generous. We would love to have you join the Lantern Publishing group.”

  I can feel the sweat building against my back. Katrina Mayflower is a well-known author in the publishing industry, and I set this meeting up at the last minute without Haden’s final approval. It’s been in the pipeline for over a year, and after a great breakfast with Natasha Summers, I am hoping we double our luck with Katrina.

  Her romance novels are hit after hit. We’re throwing a large amount of money toward a woman who has stayed loyal to our rival press for the last five years. I know this meeting will be a long shot. I have worked tireless hours reading all her books and prepare my own personal plan on how we can build her brand. So much of who I am is riding on this deal. I almost need to prove it to everyone, including Haden.

  “Look, you need to leave this with me. I appreciate you coming, but I have a lot to think about.”

  This isn’t the news I was hoping for. Lowering my head, a heavy sigh escapes my lips.

  Sandy places her arm around me. “Your pitch was nothing short of amazing.”

  “I thought we had it. You know? She appeared so eager when we spoke.”

  “I thought so, too.” Sandy’s disappointed expression mirrors mine. “What’s going on, Elvis? I know this is disappointing, but it’s almost like you’ve been stabbed in the heart.”

  I fall back onto the seat, throwing my head into my hands. No matter what I do, I fail. Everywhere I turn reminds me of that. I can’t escape it, crippled by the manic panicking going on inside my head.

  I decided to take this break from Haden, but all I can think about is him. His broken face torturing me over and over again, a horror movie replaying in my mind. Nothing in my life makes sense. I know I have lost control, but terrified, I have no clue where to start.

  “I just want this. I need something that’s all mine. I didn’t tell you, but when I left, Haden and I were…” I choke on my words, struggling to hold back my emotions. “I told him I needed space.”

  “Space as in a few days to yourself?”

  “No… space as to think about us.”

  The second it leaves my mouth the reality comes crashing down like a loose pile of bricks. A lonesome tear escapes my glassy eyes causing Sandy to scan the area around us before making a drastic move. So what if the people in the restaurant judge me? I felt so far from home and amongst strangers who will never see me again anyway.

  “Okay, no crying here. Let’s get you drunk and having a good time.”

  “I can’t do that… it’s exactly what Haden doesn’t want me to do…”

  Sandy swats the air, dismissing my mention of Haden.

  “I’m here now, and I refuse to see you this way. You’re all mine tonight, and that’s that.”

  I grab my cell and turn off my tracking.

  For tonight, I need an escape without Haden tracing my every move.

  The city is loud, alive, and buzzing for a Thursday night. I’ve drunk a number of shots, danced with some drag queen who looks like Cher’s doppelganger, and Sandy is rigorous with her need to make me forget about life back home.

  We’ve danced the macarena with a bunch of European tourists, got bored, then moved to another bar the next block over.

  I struggle to compose myself, pushing away the drinks Sandy demands I drink.

  I notice the sign on the wall, and all of a sudden, a wave of nostalgia strikes me.

  This is where I first screwed Haden.

  The night we conceived Masen.

  “What’s wrong, Elvis?” Sandy yells through the music. “Come… have another shot.”

  I shake my head, allowing the movie reel inside my drunken mind to replay the moment we argued on this very dance floor. The way his stare burned into me, fueled by jealousy as another man tried to hit on me. Dragging me outside, our lips crashing against each other, driven by hate and a need to release the tension which crawled under our skins.

  I wanted to hate him so much.

  “You’re such a fucking tease, Malone. You know that?”

  “I don’t tease, you’re just greedy and can’t help yourself.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” he tells me, running his teeth along my lobe.

  I can’t even hold a conversation here, not when his hands move into my dress and are squeezing my breasts in a desperate plea. His constant rub against my nipples is driving me insane, and I am this close to stripping in the cool night air, so he can suck on them like the hungry beast he is.

  “Relax, I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”

  And with that, he enters me as I fight for air. His entire cock is buried inside, leaving me breathless as my body adjusts to his size. I close my eyes, focusing on the sensations rather than making eye contact with him. A part of me knows I will regret this once I’m sober.

  Something feels different—odd, yet arousing. He takes his time, easing in and out, but even then, I sense his struggle. He wants it rough. He wants to fuck me like a jackrabbit. Wasn’t that what he said? Knowing that he is desperate to unleash his savage desire, I open my eyes and focus on his face. His eyes have met mine, and something odd passes between us. It’s a silent agreement that this is a one-time release, a tension fuck, and both of us have our reasons for doing it.

  He wants me to forget Jason.

  And all I’m thinking is Jason who?

  With my face in his hands, he thrusts inside me in sync with the roll of his tongue as I moan helplessly into his mouth, unfamiliar with the pressure down below. It climbs so fast I feel possessed in my own skin.

  “Is this more?” he grunts in my ear, plunging deeper into me. The jagged edge of the brick wall is scratching my skin.

  I’m barely able to string a sentence together. “More what?”

  He slows down, easing in and out at a teasing pace. “You wanted more, is this the more you wanted?”

  I have no idea what he is talking about due to the bottle of wine, and God knows how many other drinks I had at the bar. It clicks a few moments later, and like my conscience has been freed from wearing handcuffs, there is a moment of clarity, and all I can see is Jason’s face.

  “I can’t… I can’t do this,” I mumble.

  Haden stops, and under his glasses, his ey
es are raging in a fury.

  “You will do this. You know how much shit you give me in the office? You’re begging for me to fuck you hard. This is what you need, Presley. You need to be fucked so hard that you will never forget this moment.”

  His stern voice, almost demanding, turns any fear I had into raw, heated, unadulterated excitement. I do the most unexpected thing, dropping to my knees and ripping the condom off so his cock is bare in front of me.

  Sweet Jesus! The silver barbell is shining so bright, pierced directly into the tip of his cock. I have never seen one, let alone been fucked by one, which explains why it feels so different.

  “Like what you see?”

  It’s not a question, rather the cocky bastard thinking he is some sex god because I can’t stop staring at it. I’m drunk, I know, but fuck me dead, his cock is so full and large. No fucking wonder you were screaming in pleasure.

  I take it in my mouth, slowly then forcefully, and watch him crumble. The moans escape his mouth are hidden pleas begging me to take him in further. The second his tip hits the back of my throat, I use my hands to control the speed, all the while stroking him.

  He is completely losing control.

  Serves him fucking right.

  His hands move to the back of my head. With his fingers running through my hair, he moans loudly, and in a sudden move, he pushes me away, turning me around to face the brick wall.

  “Fucking tease. Now it’s payback.”

  Another foil packet rips, and he re-enters me in just one short breath.

  There is no holding back as he slams inside me—this time, his thrusts are hard and fast without any delicacy. I beg him to fuck me harder, surprised by my own words, and he obeys with a brush against my clit that throws my body into a complete meltdown.

  “I feel you. You want to come, Presley?”

  I nod, not sure if words come out of my mouth.

  He gives a final thrust with the loudest groan, and just when I’m about to see stars, on the brink of orgasmic paradise, he pulls out of me, and my buzz is gone.

  What the fuck?

  I don’t turn around instantly, allowing my brain to catch up with reality. My heart is thumping like a jackhammer, my breathing out of control as my lungs struggle to coordinate with my brain.

  Did he just…

  The sound of his zipper being pulled up alarms me, followed by a gentle kiss on my bare shoulder. Without seeing his face, his breath lingers against my ear as he whispers, “Now you know how it feels.”

  That night was the beginning of it all. And then the unimaginable happened—I fell in love with him.

  Haden Cooper, aka the class act #Jerk. The same guy who made my life a living hell.

  Sandy is carrying two shots. She extends one toward me, but I kindly refuse.

  “I think I’m going to head back to the room.”

  “What?” she yells, unable to hear through the noise.

  I lean in and repeat myself, watching her smile disappear, replaced with an annoyed expression.

  “Fine, let’s go.”

  The cab ride back to the hotel is quiet. I welcome it, though, as my head spins with every turn the driver makes. When we’re back at the hotel, Sandy pulls me out of the cab, my walking comprised by my heels. They hurt, the pavement feels hard, and I think I’m walking in a straight line until Sandy shouts at me because I’m going the wrong way.

  “Why don’t you come back to my room? You don’t look so great.”

  “I’m fiinnneee.” I hold out my hand. “See, steady as a rock.”

  Sandy grabs my hand, pulling me out of the elevator. Her room is located only a few doors down, and I don’t know why I follow, but I’m too tired to walk anywhere else.

  Inside the room, Sandy sits me on the end of the bed, removing my shoes. I relax instantly, my expensive heels are not made for bar hopping.

  “Better?” she asks, sitting beside me.

  I nod, followed by a deep laugh, uncontrollable and hurting my sides.

  “Do you know what’s funny? When Cher was trying to pick you up.” I pull a business card out of my jean pocket, barely able to compose myself. “Here’s her number.”

  Sandy places the card beside her, staring at me oddly. My laughter begins to ease, confused as to why she isn’t joining in the hilarity of the conversation until my mouth falls open.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you liked women. Well, he, she, I’m confused. You told Clint…”

  My head begins to hurt causing me to wince.

  “Presley…” Sandy whispers, pushing my hair away from my neck and past my shoulder. “I do like a woman, in fact, I’ve liked this woman for as long as I’ve known her.”

  “Shit,” I blurt out. “I should leave. I’m cramping your style. Is she from the city?”

  Her hand glides along my thigh, resting comfortably as she leans in. “Relax, okay, I promise you’ll like it.”

  Confusion strikes until her mouth draws in closer, her warm breath lingering against my lips until they touch my own. My eyes spring wide open, my body screaming for me to react yet I’m unresponsive.

  What the hell is happening?

  The adrenaline kicks in, retracting my body to create distance.

  “What… what are you doing?”

  Her hand rests on my neck, forcefully pulling me back into her. “Presley, c’mon. It’s just us now.”

  My body jerks back, stumbling off the bed in panic.

  “You know we’re just friends, right? I’m married. That hasn’t changed. I… I love my husband.”

  Sandy bares her teeth, her stare planted firmly on the ground. “Jesus Christ, Presley. Wake up and realize he doesn’t care about you? He treats you like a slave, and if he loves you like you claim he does, he would be here right now. In fact, he would never have let you go in the first place.”

  My arms wrap around my stomach as I pace the small area in front of the bed. A wave of nausea stops my pacing, the air inside this room has become incredibly stiff.

  She’s right, I think. Haden would never have let me go. Whenever his insecurity about us dominates his thoughts, he is always the first one to react. His reactions are always over-the-top. Immature at times. But’s that’s what you love about him.

  Perhaps he isn’t reacting because back at home, he has a distraction. Someone who isn’t me. A perfect woman in all accounts and once belonged to him.

  A woman who can complete him in ways I can’t.

  Eloise.

  The name burns like acid on my skin. I loathe her. And seeing Eloise inside his office, the way he laughed along with her before I stepped in, left me completely empty inside. There’s nothing left to feel, and nothing left to say.

  There is nothing left but the void which blankets my mind in swirling blackness.

  Sandy jumps off the bed, placing her hands on my arms. “Think about it, Elvis. He doesn’t love you like I do. We were friends first, always will be. You deserve so much more.” I look into her eyes, falling victim to her plea to listen to her. “Stay, with me, here.”

  My head turns around to look at the door. There’s nothing stopping me from leaving, but one person begging me to stay. The same person who came back into my life when I’d lost my way in this world.

  I have no choice anymore.

  For once, I have to do what is best for me.

  #JERK

  I stand at the door, banging my fist rapidly against the sturdy wood.

  Anger boils deep inside of me like steaming hot lava pouring out viciously. It churns within, hungry for destruction, my target standing right behind this door.

  I have suppressed my rage for long enough, and within seconds, the biggest fight of my life begins.

  The door opens slowly. Cassandra is dressed in a robe, barely poking her head out. I know she is hiding something from me, her bloodshot eyes a dead giveaway of her intoxicated state.

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s not here.”

  “
Don’t fucking mess with me,” I shout, clutching my fists against my thighs. “You’ve done enough.”

  Cassandra places her hand against the wall, blocking my entrance. Her robe slips slightly, revealing a black bra. I’m out of my mind, terrified of the truth behind this door because maybe I allowed my stubborn ego to drag this fight out for longer than I should have.

  What if I’m too late?

  What if I’ve lost her?

  “You know what? I don’t care who you are, Haden. Boss or no boss, don’t you go accusing me of anything. Presley deserves better. Are you even surprised she wants to leave you?”

  The threat rattles me, words flow from her mouth with a purpose to hurt me. There’s a satisfied gleam in her eyes as she realizes the pain she’s causing me. My hands begin to clench again, then unclench, jumping from one extreme to another.

  Violence is not the answer, I chant to myself.

  But all I see is her smug face and her joy in destroying my fucking life.

  Unable to hold back, I push the door open, and see a body on the bed. Her shoulders peek through the sheets, and when I shove Cassandra out of the way, desperate for answers, I rip off the sheet to see a woman sleeping.

  It’s not Presley.

  The hair is brown but not the mane of curls that belong to my wife. The arch of the back is not the same contour that my hands have run over a thousand times. My racing heart begins to even out, the rage subsiding but only just.

  “You’re a maniac. I told you it wasn’t Presley.”

  “Where the fuck is she then?”

  “I don’t know… we kinda…” Cassandra trails off. “She left hours ago, okay?”

  It takes mere seconds for the rage to spike again, rushing through my body like a wild beast. Her words pound in my ears, I need fucking answers, now.

  “We kinda what?” I growl with widened eyes.

  “We kinda… never mind.” She stops mid-sentence, followed by a downward gaze. “She loves you. For whatever reason, I have no clue. You win.”

  I purse my lips, exasperated. “I win? This isn’t a competition. Do you know what you have done to our family?”

  “I was in her life well before you,” she cries back, her emotions catching me off guard.